


The case that changes everything

by maradidepaig



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: But there are traits of Johnlock, M/M, Main focus is Mycroft and Greg, Other, a little bit fluffy, no lemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maradidepaig/pseuds/maradidepaig
Summary: An odd break-in case caught Greg's attention. He asked for Sherlock's help to solve the case. However, as the investigation digs further, Greg realized that the case was actually, a love chase. The final stage of this game, is a candle-light dinner with Mycroft. What more could fangirls like us ask for?





	The case that changes everything

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually ship Mystrade, but I think I would be fun to write, so I produced something like this. I'm usually a Johnlock fangirl, so dont blame me if you can see traits of Johnlock in my fic. I just cant resist the temptation of writing their happily ever after story : )  
> Enjoy.

“Sherlock! You’d better come here! There’s a break-in.” Greg shouted anxiously on the phone.   
“A break-in? Shouldn’t your officers be dealing with it? The complexity of the case, certainly suits their limited intelligence. Why bother me, I have better things to do than boring child’s play.” Sherlock replied, obviously amused.   
Greg was certainly not in the mood to join Sherlock’s amusement. “It’s the strangest break-in ever, trust me, you’re definitely gonna love it.”  
***  
In Scotland Yard, Greg’s office, Sherlock, John, and Greg sat. Greg was reporting the facts concerning the break-in.   
“A break-in in Kensington, west of London. Luxurious place to live, huh? Sounds boring.”  
Greg was getting annoyed. “Stop interrupting, okay? I haven’t even finished. Now, the suspect took nothing from the flat, and, instead, left a wedding ring.”  
“Oh, Graham, finally there’s something interesting. I’ve always appreciated the Police’s ability to discover good cases, but when we come to point of solving them, I don’t hold much hope that you are capable of doing so. But of course, you’ve come to the right person.” Sherlock’s blue eyes glittered with excitement.   
“Dear lord, can you please let me finish?” Greg’s face was screaming an “I’m done” expression. “On the wall, inscribed with red lipstick, was a heart. No doubt the suspect left it there.” The detective inspector produced a photo from his pocket. It was a picture of the crime scene.   
Sherlock was obviously mesmerized by the scene, and put on his overcoat and his hat, he signaled John to leave. “We’re going by cab. Be there in twenty minutes.”  
***  
Sherlock crouched down and stared at the ring for a long time. He held it against the light, rolled it on the floor, threw it into a basin of water, and even tried it on his finger.   
“Are you so desperate to get married, freak? No-one’s going to love you, not a psychopath.” Donavan giggled to herself, but John, standing beside her, began to tense up.   
“What did you say? Care to repeat yourself?” John was attempting to control his anger, but was clearly failing to. His fist was clenched, and he gritted his teeth.   
“What? I’m just telling the truth. I’ve advised you to stay away from this freak, Doctor, and now see what he’s trained you to become! A miserable dog, trailing behind his master.”  
“Please, for God’s sake, be quiet, I’m trying to think! Don’t turn my sacred mind palace into a wet market, and…” Sherlock bellowed, “Oh, John, keep talking. Your voice is soothing, and increases the blood circulation to my brain. I think more efficiently when you’re talking. Just, don’t get angry. You don’t sound very soothing when you are in a rage.”  
***  
Sherlock stood before the lipstick heart on the wall and sank into a stance of meditation. For a period of half an hour, he did not move a bit nor did he speak. Even the tiniest bit of evidence could never escape his razor-sharp eyes. His curled, tight lips suddenly broke into a smile. A dry laugh came out from his mouth. However, Greg and John, as normal as they were, could not see whatever is bemusing him. They never understood how he could dig out a whole new and fantastic wonderland in a mystical crime scene.   
“Alright, now I’ve all that I need. Give me some time, I believe in a day or two, several other break-ins will catch your attention. Seek my advice then.” Sherlock said, with that cursed little smile still on his face. “I’m hungry, John, let’s get something to eat.” With that, he left the flat.   
***  
Sitting in the cab, John stared at Sherlock with a puzzled look. “What’s that all about, why are you laughing? And why didn’t you explain to Greg?”  
“Patience, John, patience. Someday, you’ll know. Someone has left something for Gavin to follow. But he is testing his wits. Keep calm, I am going to be the perfect matchmaker!” The detective said.   
John was more confused than ever. What was Sherlock talking about? Yet, he quietly let this matter settle and didn’t investigate.   
***  
There were footsteps outside the door. “Oh come in, Giles. Whatever is bothering you is certainly worth my attention. Interesting night, exciting cases come one by one. Ah, what a wonderful night.” Sherlock, crouched on his favourite seat, sprang into action and opened the door for Greg.   
“Another break-in, Sherlock! Things are getting creepy now. You and I are dangerously involved, pray give me some clue on what’s going on!” Greg said, clearly under stress.   
With a sip from a glass of vodka, Greg seemed to calm down a bit. “This time, a residence flat just beside Scotland Yard, again, nothing was stolen, so, not a burglary. A note was left on the dining table, addressed to me, and your name, Sherlock, was also mentioned. This guy seemed to know a lot about us.”  
“I presume he would. Another lipstick inscription on the wall, I guess?” The detective said coolly.   
“Yeah, yes. Maybe I’ll show you the photo, and oh yes, I’ve got the note with me as well.” Greg fished a few crumbled papers from his pocket.   
John took a peek at the pictures, for, he worried about Sherlock’s safety. He couldn’t risk Sherlock being kidnapped or hunted down by some clever criminal masterminds, again.   
Written on the white wall, in bright red colour, was a heart. But a slightly larger one than the previous. Next to the doodle, was the alphabet G and M. Two little men were drawn under the letters. The word, Ljubezen, was also written alongside.   
Sherlock took one brief look at the image and immediately understand something. “Clever as you are, you can never hide from me. Few people on Earth know Slovene, and even fewer use this language to deceive others. Too weird, too random. Unwise, unwise indeed. For your information,” He referred to Greg, “Ljubezen is the Slovene word for LOVE.”  
Greg stood, with his jaw wide open. “Okay, OKAY! I’ve had enough of this… damn it… just help me solve this, Sherlock, alright?”  
“Hand me that note, Gregson.” Sherlock ordered. He read the contents aloud.   
Detective Inspector Lestrade,   
I mean no harm. Please don’t be alarmed.   
Love is a dangerous thing, Detective Inspector. Especially when you’re in love with a powerful and extremely influential man. Pray forgive me that I have increased your burden and presumably scared you. However, you have to trust me that this whole chain of incident is unavoidable if one has to win your heart.   
I have already given my heart to you, twice, in fact. Each time I see you, my heart yearns for your presence. My affection towards you also grows as time passes by. But you don’t seem to understand the meaning behind all my work, so I, left with no other choice, had to leave you this note, hoping to shed some light onto your confused mind.   
Please, take my advice, figure this out on your own. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I am afraid, would not be able to assist you anymore. On this journey of seeking love, you must come alone. Always, remember, that I am at the end of the road, smiling and waiting for you to come to me.   
On the other hand, I have sent you my best regards, and a little wedding gift. I have had the ring made according to your finger. I hope it fits, and that you will like it. Keep it, Detective Inspector, and solve this puzzle. Time is running out.   
Truly and whole-heartedly Yours,   
M.   
After finishing writing the letter, Sherlock roared with laughter. “What a game!” he exclaimed. “There is only one man on Earth, who will use such a queer way to woo someone! What a way to spend my night!” He dragged John away from the scene, leaving an awe-stricken Greg standing, more dazzled than ever.   
“So you’re just leaving then?” Greg called towards the detective. “Aren’t you going to help me solve this case? I’ll give you all the credits!”  
Sherlock answered cheerfully, “I’m sorry, Gregson. It is clearly stated that I cannot participate in this love chase of yours. As if I want to.”  
“Hey! Come back! I thought you would find this case interesting! This damned letter, it absolutely freaks me out! Who the hell is this guy? I haven’t even seen him! I have a wife, and a bloody family!”  
Sherlock stopped walking, and turned around, facing Greg. “Well, seeing that you are so desperate, I may give you a few clues to who you are facing. One, he is an extremely powerful and influential man in the UK. Two, he is fluent in dozens of languages. Three, his name starts with an M. Four, he’s in love with you, though that is extremely unlikely of him to do so. Five, he is very intelligent. Six, this awkward game he’s playing with you is designed to test your IQ, in which he should be very much disappointed with.”  
“I still don’t understand.” said Greg, “So, you know this guy, you know who he is? And you’re not gonna tell me?”  
“Yes, I know this guy, and I don’t want to spoil his fun in wooing you. You’ll have to guess.”  
“The… prime minister?” Greg said, clearly not believing himself.   
Sherlock laughed so hard he almost rolled on the floor. “Yes, you can say so. In a way.”  
***  
On the ride to their flat, 221B Baker street, John asked Sherlock, “Who is this guy? Who’s in love with Greg?”  
Sherlock smiled. “It’s a fun way to woo someone. Maybe we should try it sometime later. I can solve a murder and then leave you a puzzle to follow. The solution will lead you to our flat, and I’ll be waiting for you on the sofa, and you will head straight to my embrace. Genius plan!”  
John couldn’t process what he had heard just now. “Wait. What? What? What genius plan?”  
Sherlock sighed. “Leave it, I’ve overestimated your IQ. You’ll never be able to solve that puzzle.”  
“Wait! You? Want to woo ME? Woo me? What the hell are you talking about?”  
“Yes, yes! I want to woo you. I love you, and I can deduce that you hold the same affection towards me. So, stop hiding. What’s wrong with being plain?” Sherlock said, and planted a little kiss on John’s forehead.   
***  
The next day, Greg found another note in his house’s mailbox. On it, in neat handwritings, is written:  
Detective Inspector,   
To the start, you must go to the end. To the end, you must go to the start. The last and final stage of our game, is back to the place when everything first started. When you first know of me. When I first give you my love. When I sent you a wedding gift. My dear, be there at six in the evening. I long for you to complete my empty soul.   
Greg swept away the lines of sweat on his forehand. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there, and see whatever you have for me.” He muttered to himself. He had no idea that the CCTV five foot away from him had recorded his words. The man behind the screen, watching over the camera footage, obviously pleased with what he had just heard, quickly adjusted the camera to turn from Greg’s face back to the road.   
***  
Mycroft Holmes was waiting anxiously. For every five minutes or so, he would glance at his watch, hoping that his fiancée would show up.   
Finally, exactly when the clock stuck six, there was a soft knock on the door. Mycroft went over to the door with light, skipping steps. He peered into the little hole on the door, and could only see a lovely forest of glittering grey hair. He was about to open the door when a sexy voice rang in his ears. “Hello? Anybody here?”  
God, Mycroft thought to himself, this man’s voice was like sweet milk chocolate, messaging his ears like angels’ voices.   
The door was opened. Shocked, Mycroft’s fiancée froze. “H…Hi? I’m g…g…Greg.” He stuttered. “Mister Holmes? Why are you here? Has something happened to Sherlock?”  
Mycroft smiled at the cuteness of the silver-haired little man standing before him. “No. Let us not mention my troublesome little brother. It’s our date, remember? Let’s not spoil the fun.”   
“It is you? Behind all this? Wh… I don’t understand. And I still have a family. And… sorry to inform, but, I’m not gay.”  
Mycroft smiled even brighter. “Is that so? Detective Inspector, I think you should know that your wife has been sleeping with Mr. Mills, which is your neighbor, for six months already. And, from the information I have, you and your wife have been seeking a divorce for a few weeks. I’ve just sent somebody to help you to get a divorce already. You’re single, now. Concerning your sexuality, I believe, you are not as straight as you announced. You’ve been flirting with a young lad in the supermarket, an officer in the Police force, a gym coach, a teacher in a college, and a librarian. Therefore, never mind that, you can start with me.”  
“Wh… Who are you? Where did you get those information?” Greg said, his cheeks still blushing a bright red colour.   
“I have my own methods. You can, for now, consider me your fiancé.” He lit a candle on the well-set table. “I bet you’re hungry. Let’s have dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Johnlock and Mystrade! Wonderful Holmes brothers and their fiancee.


End file.
